


All That Jazz

by eghania



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe-30s, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gangsters, Jazz Age, M/M, Marco is a saxophonist, Swing Dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eghania/pseuds/eghania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began in 1933, when Jean Kirschtein, due to political transformation in his native Germany was forced to move to New Orleans. Alone on the other side of the world he was drowning his sorrows in gin from the local jazz club. Surprisingly, his attention was drawned by a mysterious, Italian saxophonist.</p>
<p>Basically it is a 30s AU, there will be a lot of jazz, swing, charleston and gangsters. Hope you'll enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a first chapter of a fanfic inspired by a lovely fanart made by tumblr user kueekueen-g. I was always fascinated with the era of jazz and gangsters and I also ship my dorks Jean and Marco, so this fanfic is a combination of those two things. It is a little bit short, but next chapters will be longer I promise. Feel free to comment here or on my tumblr ladykubrick.tumblr.com

_What the fuck am I doing here?_

Jean Kirschtein kept asking himself while he was fighting against insomnia in his new flat. Idiosyncratic moans and creakings of a bed were keeping him awake. The newlyweds from upstairs, Connie and Sasha Springer have been consuming their love constantly and loudly, to Jean’s utter irritation.

You may wonder why was this young, handsome German stuck in the middle of New Orleans, in a rotten basement flat with a stale stink filling the air. The answer is short and simple- politics. Since a certain moustachioed madman has taken over his country, numerous cases of suspicious missings were reported, especially among the representatives of the opposition and their relatives. Jean didn’t believe in such a coincidence.  As a member of a once influential family, he was no longer safe. So he chose to escape. Like a coward. He hated himself for that.

Since he got here he has been doing the same thing every night- inhaling ridiculous amounts of cigarette smoke into his lungs and cursing his faith. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t erase the past, it was always there, constantly hurting like a wound. He will never see his home again, nor his friends, nor his favourite quaint cinema where he saw “Nosferatu” ten times. And yes, he knew that his past wasn’t perfect. He hated the law school his parents made him attend to. Studying all those acts and regulations by heart was not how teenage, rebellious Jean imagined his adulthood. Living up to his relatives’ expectations was driving him berserk and his professors described him as a spoilt pain in the ass. Maybe if he got used to constant “shouldnts” and “shoulds”, he would lead a wealthy, idle existence that his parents wanted for him. He would settle down, marry some woman, have children. The moving turned everything upside down. Now his life was a blank page and he had no idea how to start the first verse. Mr. Perfect Jean Kirschtein was officially falling into despair.

_Pull yourself together, Jean, stop being such a whiny pussy._ He thought, as he cried himself to sleep again.

* * *

 

Next day Jean’s evening nap was cruelly disturbed by a loud knocking on his front door. On the doorstep he saw a familiar face, blushed undoubtedly from the alcohol. But Sasha, even with a liquor that went straight to her head and smudged red lipstick, still managed to look absolutely stunning.

“Jean, Mein Herr!” screamed Sasha with a squicking voice”Will you offer me a cigarette? Please, show mercy to a damsel in distress. I know you have them, you’ve been smoking the whole night!”

“Sasha, It’s the last fucking time I am giving you anything.” Jean reached to his pocket. _How could she possibly know if he has been smoking, she has been fucking all night!_ Jean thought, but kept a straight face.

“You are my hero!” she grabbed a cigarette enthusiasticly, spilling her liquor all over the floor.

_I’ll have to clean up this fucking mess, but watching her drunk is amusing though._

“Jeaaaan!”she screamed again as she lit the cigarette ”You look like you need a few drinks, you know? Luckily I know all the places in this damned city where you can indulge yourself with the cold gin and the hottest jazz. You are a friend of the Springer family now, you have to go to The Wall with us! Am I right, sweetheart?”

Connie nodded, still sitting on the stairs, too exhausted(drunk) to stand up. Jean wasn’t sure how to answer. He definitely wasn’t in the mood for partying, but from the other hand he had nothing else to do. And Connie and Sasha, as fucked-up as they were, were the only friendly people he knew. He didn’t want to offend them, he needed friends, he needed company…

“Let me just grab my coat.”

* * *

 

 New Orleans at dusk was much louder than during the day. Streets were filled with hushed laughs, quarrels and a clatter of dancing shoes coming from pubs and cafes. In a dimly lit alley they found their destination. The Wall was luring Jean with smooth jazz and a mellow, faint whiff of liquor and perfume.

They were walking in silence until Sasha screamed:

“It’s time to make Jean naughty!”

“Yes! Let’s order him a few drinks” Connie high-fived Sasha as if they were teenagers. Jean smiled widely, he already liked those two dorks.

They walked straight to the bar, Jean paid particular attention to the band. They were playing so smoothly, entertaining guests so that couples could dance and have a great time. Jean studied the place carefully, already loving the atmosphere of this nightspot. When he turned around, Sasha and Connie were already on the dancefloor, getting carried away by swing. _I should also loosen up a bit. One tiny shot of vodka won’t harm me, will it?_

”Well, looks like Sasha and Connie brought a fresh meat here” he heard a female voice coming from the bar. The gorgeous brunette was sitting there, pulling the petite blonde closer and playing with her locks ”Come to me. I am Mikasa Ackerman. And this is Annie, my sun and my stars.-she added, glancing lovingly at her lover. They seemed so in love it hurt. Mikasa turned to Jean again. ”And whom do I have the pleasure?”

“Jean. Jean Kirschtein.”he answered shyly.

But Mikasa needn’t have introduced herself, he recognized her face from the moment she spoke. How could he not? During the Golden Era of silent films she was his idol, his favourite actress. He read every newspaper, following her career and affairs, being ridiculously jealous of her influential lovers. He remembered stealing from the local cinema a poster of “The Red Angel” with her in a leading role to hang in his room. As a silly and naïve brat he was staring at it all the time, dreaming about meeting her one day. And it happened. He had always imagined himself as a big shot winning her heart at first sight. But he grew out of such bullshit. The fact that she was in a happy relationship didn’t bother him at all. His teenage crush was just a distant, pleasant memory.

“So, what is it to know about Jean Kirschtein?” Mikasa inquired, genuinely curious about him.

“Well, I…” he stuttered, having problems with a response. ”I’ve just moved to New Orleans from Germany. I have no life so I came here to get drunk.” he stated straightforwardly. _Honesty is a key, right?_

“Just like everybody else in here” sighed Annie

“ Cheers to you, Jean Kirschtein” Mikasa raised a glass with a smirk and took a shot of vodka.

“Can I ask you something?” Jean didn’t want to be nosy, but his curiosity was overwhelming “You were an actress, weren’t you? A famous film star? I’m sorry, I don’t want to be impolite, but…”

“That’s okay” replied Mikasa with a bitter smirk “Yes, I was acting until those damned talkies replaced soundless films.” She blew out a cigarette smoke. ”Suddenly I became too “old-fashioned” for producers. I belong to the past.” Mikasa stated with a melancholic sigh. Annie pulled her closer in a reply.

“I’ve always liked your acting” said Jean sympathetically, trying not to sound like too much of a fanboy.

“Thanks, but it doesn’t matter anymore”

They stayed in silence, Jean listening to the music, Annie and Mikasa busy with themselves. He glanced at the band, his eyes skipped the pianist, the vocalist, the drummer. His attention was suddenly attracted by a saxophonist. There was something about him...He played with such passion, Jean just couldn’t take his eyes off him. His messy dark hair contrasted with his adorable, freckled face. He was Italian, undoubtedly. His darker complexion matched chocolate eyes perfectly. Jean was afraid that the mysterious musician would catch him staring, but at the same time he didn’t care. He was enchanted. Jean watched as the saxophonist’s gentle hands were touching the instrument so precisely, giving the sound that made him shiver.

_Oh God, I drank way too much tonight._


	2. Fred, Ginger and a hot Italian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I freshly serve you a second chapter, hope you'll like it. :3

Jean woke up with a familiar dryness in his mouth. His head felt like it was spinning and he needed a glass of water so badly. Basically he felt like shit, terribly hangover after last night. His body definitely wasn’t thanking him for all the excessive drinking, but his mood was the best he has ever had on this continent. The usual feeling of hopelessness abandoned him, what cannot be said about a severe headache.  
Jean got up of his bed, rubbing his eyes sleepishly. _Damn it, I’d kill for a painkiller_ He thought, slowly massaging his temple. Despite his morning agony he didn’t regret last night. Under an influence of alcohol he could talk with strangers without any boundaries, which made him much friendlier than he actually was. He got to know a whole bunch of people, not only Mikasa and Annie, but also their smart blonde friend called Armin, cute, petite Christa with her sassy girlfriend Ymir. Jean finally felt like he belonged somewhere, even if it was just one night.  
But suddenly Jean reminded himself of something he was really ashamed of. He blushed foolishly at his thoughts about the freckled saxophonist. He was aware that alcohol tend to mess with people’s minds, but still…Why would he think like that about another man? It made completely no sense. There are men that show a particular fondness towards other men, but it was not the case. What Jean felt was just a pure admiration mixed with confusion after alcohol abuse. Pleased with this self-diagnosis, he shrugged it off. After all he was 100% straight, right? There was absolutely nothing to worry about.  
\--  
That day he came to The Wall again. And the next day, and the day after that. Basically he couldn’t stay out of this place. The more he visited, the more accepted he felt. It became obvious that The Wall wasn’t just an ordinary nightspot to drink liquor, leave and forget. It was much more than that. The everyday visitors were somehow like a family, a group of unfortunate, troubled souls. Just like Jean.  
He was lost in thoughts sitting at the table with Mikasa and Annie. Between them there was no need to small talk. The blonde was absent-mindedly staring at her glass of gin, while her girlfriend was flicking through magazines. Suddenly Mikasa interrupted the silence with an ear-piercing shout.  
‘Fucking Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire are said to be…, let me quote those bastards’ she paused for a moment, looking for an article. She triedto remain calm, but inside she was burning in fury. ‘Okay, I got this: "a shimmering, glowing stars in the cinema firmament." Are they fucking serious? How can anybody describe them that way? The world is going to the dogs lately’  
‘Mikasa, relax’ Annie held her hand supportingly ‘They are nothing compared to your talent and charisma, but you can’t do anything about their popularity.’ their eyes met, to which Mikasa responded with a smirk ‘Just ignore them, darling’  
‘But it still bothers me!’  
‘Hey, Mikasa’ Jean could never stop himself from adding fuel to the fire ‘They actually aren’t that bad, you know? Have you seen them in anything or are you just bitter you are no longer on top?’  
‘Jean!’ Annie shouted, clearly outraged.  
Mikasa said nothing, replied only with a stare that was piercing him through a cloud of smoke. But after a moment she raised her eyebrows and forced a smile. It was the most passive aggressive grin anyone could imagine. She may have been an ex-diva, but her smugness was still present and strong.  
‘Jean, you don’t know anything . You are just a kid, so I’ll pretend that you didn’t say anything’  
‘I may be a kid, but I at least fucking try to move on from my past’ he stated as calm as he could ‘You should do it too’  
‘Hey, you know me for like, few weeks, you are not in a position to give me advices’  
‘So who is? You are not listening to anyone!’ Jean’s anger was getting out of hand, but deep in his heart he meant well. It may have been just few weeks, but he really cared for her, definitely not in a romantic way, but in a sincere friendship way. He wasn’t able to show it. Instead he lost his temper completely  
‘I know who I should be listening to’ Mikasa yelled. There was a little bit of defense in her voice. ‘Just because you used to jerk off to my movies doesn’t mean that you are an expert on my life! She hissed, slamming fist on a table  
‘’Fuck you for bringing it up right now!’  
‘Okay, that’s it!’ Annie interjected, leaped to her feet and grabbed Jean’s arm, pushing him out of the table. ‘This conversation is over’  
‘Yeah, get him out of my face’  
‘Shut up, Mikasa’ Annie commanded angrily, which made Mikasa widen her eyes in shock. But Jean wasn’t surprised that the only sane person in here was mad at both of them. They both crossed a line tonight.  
Annie dragged Jean to the door of the club and stopped him. As Mikasa no longer could hear them, Annie said with a hushed voice. ‘Jean, I like you, but you can be such a dick sometimes.’ He muttered something in defense, but she continued ‘I know Mikasa can be wrong and unreasonable, but please, don’t be so harsh.’  
‘So you agree that I was right this time?’  
Annie sighed. She was irritated and so done with this whole situation. ‘Don’t be childish. It is not about being wrong or right, you have no idea how hard it was for her to lose everything, to fall off the pedestal she was on. You weren’t there for her then, huh?’  
‘I’m sorry’ Jean truly meant it. And yeah, sometimes he acted like a total dick. He wish he could keep his mouth shut in a moments like this.  
‘You should be’  
Jean was heading to leave The Wall, but stood for a second and turned around.  
‘Hey Annie?’  
‘What?’  
‘Mikasa is the luckiest girl in the whole world to have you’  
Annie replied with a radiant smile, shyly trying to hide how much she was flattered by his words. ‘See you around, Jean’ was her only response.

\--  


Jean meant to come back home, but his intentions was thwarted by the pouring rain. And to call it a rain is a huge misunderstanding, it was literally a hail. It made all the people from the streets run back to their warm and cosy houses. Jean stood in a hesitation for a moment. He couldn’t go back inside and an attempt to go home would resolve in catching a, in the worst case deadly, cold. Suddenly he heard a mild, sweet voice calling him.  
‘Hey there, stranger!’ His italian accent was so easy to detect ‘It rains heavier than usually in Louisiana tonight, I would stay inside if I were you.’  
Jean turned his head. When he saw the owner of the marvelous voice, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The man propped against the wall was the one and only freckled Adonis, casually smoking his cigarette with his saxophone lying on the side.  
Jean was speechless, but then he muttered, with a trace of anger still in his voice. ‘Well, but you aren’t me’  
‘Fair point, stranger’ he replied with a genuine smile and gave him a look that cured Jean from his bitterness. ‘My name is Marco by the way.’ He reached to shake Jean’s hand.  
‘Um, I’m Jean’  
‘So you are no longer a stranger, then.’ Jean just nodded. _Is he just being nice or do I sense some flirty vibe from him? Okay, now I’m just being ridiculous_.  
‘Listen, Jean’ Marco continued ‘The rain doesn’t seem to stop, in fact it’s just getting worse, so if you want to get home , feel free to borrow my umbrella.’  
Jean was astonished by this sudden act of kindness. ‘Well, I can’t, you will get wet then’ he remarked politely.  
‘Don’t worry about me, I have plenty of others at The Wall.’  
Jean took the umbrella from Marco, not willing to break the eye contact between them. He realized that he grinned like an idiot, so he just said ‘Thank you’  
‘You’re welcome, Jean’  
‘Soo…see you tomorrow?’  
‘I’ll be on stage as always’ Marco stated with an adorable giggle.  
‘Bye then’  
‘Sleep well, Jean’  
Jean turned and was on his way home at last, with Marco’s classy black umbrella above his head. The weird thing was that he couldn’t stop smiling. He met Marco. Marco was nice. That should be the only thing to notice after that short meeting. But he also realized how much he enjoyed the way Marco spoke his name and how his brown eyes reflected the moonlight. In the blink of an eye he forgot about the quarrel with Mikasa.  
He was glad that he borrowed that umbrella. He had an excuse to talk to him again.


End file.
